


The Secrets of the Savior

by TwilightRealmWolf



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: "graphic" violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, More pairings later, Other: See Story Notes, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:36:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightRealmWolf/pseuds/TwilightRealmWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once considered the "Happiest Soul in Rinstpond", Gavin Free was the light of the gloomy days. He radiated positive energy and happiness constantly, the entire town knowing his name and what he was known for. Though, with each passing day, filled with rain and gloom, and each passing night, drowned out in the bar of Neon, he appears to drain more and more, this going unnoticed by everyone who used to know him.</p>
<p>When he's not the happy Gavin, they don't need him anymore.</p>
<p>If only there was change somewhere down the desolate road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Absent Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, readers,
> 
> So yeah, I somehow managed to crank this out just now, because this is the only free time I've had in months since school started. I'm really glad to be staring this though, even though its just another damn chapter fic and I have a ton of those.
> 
> I'm not too happy with some of this, but trust me, the prompt I came up with is good, so as long as I get the support I'll continue it and the plot will build!
> 
> Hopefully it's alright, I guess.
> 
> *Click the END NOTES for triggers,but only if you're worried about it! It IS kind of a spoiler*

The glass slammed down on the table with a hearty sound, though drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the surroundings. The lights were bright, but not too bright. The voices were loud, but not too loud. The wooden bar top beneath his callused fingertips was smooth yet rough at the same time. Some things just made no sense to him.

The setting is titled Neon, a dingy bar off of the one road that links between the city of Seattle and the miniature “town” of Rinstpond. Though, the term town was always used very loosely, as the whole thing was probably smaller than a pinhead when looked at from even a mere 5,000 feet above. All the same, it continues to be ironic and just flat out dismal as there wasn’t even a pond anywhere in the entire town. What were the founders thinking.

He himself would say that there was no thought at all put into the founding of probably the shittiest town alive, that the people who decided to make this decision to settle were probably short a few hundred brain cells, as there was precisely one road between here and the city, which included a ferry ride, which just so happens to take an hour and a half each way, and don’t even get him started on the commute from the ferry to the center of town.

Though, the commute between his cramped apartment and the bar known as Neon was much more manageable. So very much so that he found himself here on a daily basis. Better yet, he wasn’t the only one to follow this pattern either.

There was never a shortage of patrons when he found himself walking through those two squeaky double doors out front. They’d been squeaky for as long as he can remember, but were never fixed, put off as an afterthought to the glory that was the rest of Neon.

Yes, a name like Neon sounded awkwardly similar to some sort of nightclub, dance rave thing, or better yet, an illegal strip club, but it surely isn’t that in the slightest. Sure, the outside was dingy, but the inside was nothing but charming. No, there were no spinning disco balls or glow sticks or foam pits, but it was a nice bar none the less. Though, when hearing from the word of mouth, you would never know that Neon was the bar that anyone talked about.

The printed, and ironically not neon sight hung up above the entrance to Neon may have the four electric letters on it, but inside it was a much different story. The regulars, the whole lot of them, never really called the bar by its printed name, but rather their own slang they had come up with for it. They all talked amongst themselves about the wonderful bar that they came to know as the Cockalorum, which apparently, unbeknownst to him, was a synonym for a rooster, when it just sounded like a stupid word someone had made up. Who would’ve known that something as stupid as that could have an actual definition.

He himself knew quite a few of the lot of regulars, but most times, never talked with them. They all talked like they had known each other for their entire lives, when in reality they had really only met a few years prior. Though, in with the owners and a few of the original staff, a few of them had all known each other since the big grand opening, when even the new doors squeaked their way open to a new crowd of all sorts of oddities, all stemming from the town in the middle of absolute buttfuck nowhere.

“Another one for you, Gav?” A somewhat raspy voice cut in, yanking him quite abruptly from his train of thought, that had slowly run into the ground becoming a tangent. He looked up, eyes wide with the deer in the headlights expression seemingly set in stone to his facial features. He shook his head a few times quickly before looking up at the man standing in front of him.

“Oh, yeah yeah, sure. Same as before.” Gavin mumbles, waving his hand limply in the air as a general sign of ‘whatever’. The bartender gets a quizzical look before wiping it from his look entirely, focusing all too hard on the simplistic drink in front of him.

“Something up?” The man asks as he picks up his spoon and begins to stir with extreme precision and skill.

“Hmm?” He questions, looking up from where his gaze was transfixed on a small carving on the wooden bar top beneath his fingertips. “Oh, yeah,” He begins again after his pause, “No, I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

The man behind the counter slides the drink across the polished surface with ease, the now condensing glass sliding perfectly into the other mans hand. “Come on, Gav, I know that’s entirely bullshit.” The other man scoffs, leaning his head back to shoot most of the drink back in one gulp. The ice jingled in the glass as he moved the cup around in his fingertips, eyes focused intently on the frozen cubes rather than anywhere else. “So tell me what is actually going on.”

“You always know me so well, Geoffrey.” He says, a small smile toying at the edge of his lips. Geoff, standing behind the bar, decides to take a more relaxed stance and leans up against the bar, elbows resting on the counter, and his head resting in his hands.

“Damn right I do. As well as I should, considering I see you here so often.”

“Well you know, a person’s gotta get away some time, right?”

“Yeah, maybe, but you sure are out a helluva lot recently. Everything alright? Usually you’re always over talking to Matt and Joel, if not the two plus Gus, and Burnie if he’s there.”

Gavin shrugs. “I guess the cramped town is getting to me. Gotta get out.”

Geoff scoffs. “Then take a trip into the city, idiot, instead of just coming from the middle of buttfuck nowhere to here, coincidentaly, also the middle of buttfuck nowhere.”

“Can’t take the time off work.” Gavin  mumbles, before lowering his face to rest in the crook of his elbow.

“I’m sure you can. For fucks sake Gav, you work for yourself. You don’t even have to request the time off, just spin around the Open sign to say Closed and catch the bus to go into the city.”

“Can’t. Plus, I work in the city. I’m in the city anyway.”

“Then fucking act like it, genius. I swear, sometimes you are the most difficult ass.”

“Thanks, Geoff.” He mumbles halfheartedly, not even bothering to lift his head. Geoff just sighs.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you need a break. I mean, hell, look at you, dark circles under your eyes, and even I didn’t know that circles could get to that shade of purple. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you’d gotten punched.” Geoff chuckled, not noticing Gavin’s visible flinch at the words.

“Plus,” Geoff begins again, continuing his previous thought, “You’ve really been dragging recently. You haven’t talked to anyone in the past two weeks at least, even though you’re here everyday without fail, and all you do it drown your liver in alcohol, nothing else. Hell, do you ever eat while you’re here? I don’t think I’ve ever taken a food order from you before.”

“Not hungry.” Gavin deadpans, still not lifting up his head.

“See, and you aren’t even sitting up. By your demeanor today, I can’t tell if you and that loverboy of yours just go at it rough, or if you really took an honest beating.”

Another chuckle, another flinch unnoticed.

“Honestly, I never really knew what to think of Michael.” Geoff starts, suddenly staring off at something on the wall, talking into the air with the hope in the back of his mind that the sounds we’re actually reaching Gavin’s ears. “He had always seemed like a good kid to me, especially that day you’d brought him down here from the city. Man, he was fun to be around. But man, talk about the rage on that man. He was all fine, sunshine and rainbows and all that shit until you beat him at that game, following his loss up with a string of curses and tackling you to the floor. I wouldn’t want to know where else he can put his rage.”

“Mmph.” Gavin mumbles, faking like he was listening. Though, the last few lines hit his ears, and they hit him hard. Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking hit so often anymore…

“But anyways Gav, seriously, go home. Rest up, and maybe consider just not going to work tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go home, Geoff.”

“What do you mean, I thought Michael was down here in the shitty ass town of Rinstpond for the week?”

“He is, yeah…” Gavin mumbles, his voice trailing off weakly.

“Then I’d think you’d be excited to go home. I don’t even know what that’d be like, dating someone who was over 3 hours away from me. I was lucky that I met Griffon in the town. She lit up that dingy place like nothing else. Man…” Geoff’s voice falters off, his tone turning nostalgic. “But anyway, go home. The bus’ll be here in a few minutes, headed Rinst-side. Get back home to your man.”

“I don’t want to, Geoff-”

“Jesus, Gav, just go. I’ll walk you over. Plus, and I’m using my bartender duties or whatever the fuck, you’re too drunk to stay here and drink more, so I’m supposed to just guide you to the nearest bus or cab and send you on your way.” Geoff states, jumping up and sliding easily over the counter, his feet landing inches from Gavin’s chair. He reaches out, grabbing Gavin by the arm and inching him off the chair. There was a hiss that escaped Gavin’s lips, but it faded into the air, hitting Geoff’s ears but immediately getting disregarded.

“Lets go, buddy. We’ll get you home.”

Gavin whimpered, dejected and strained before pulling himself free of Geoff’s grasp and stumbling off towards the door.

“Jack!” Geoff shouts quickly, keeping his eye on Gavin as he walks toward the doors.

“Yeah, Geoff?” He hears a husky voice ask in reply.

“Watch the bar, I’ll be back!”

“Will do.” Jack says, his voice barely reaching Geoff before Geoff walks out the door.

He watches Gavin stumble, yet still walk on his own, across the desolate road that is rarely driven upon by a car. Though, when there was a car it was evident, especially to Geoff as he saw the brights come flying closer at an ungodly speed. Right lane.

Gavin was...Gavin, right lane.

Then panic set in.

“Gavin, no!” Geoff yelled, breaking out into a full sprint,crossing the road quickly before colliding with the brit, wrapping his arms around the thin man's waist and pulling him down with himself as he dove for the shoulder of the road, toward the safest place. Geoff heard the car go flying by, him catching his breath before looking down at Gavin, who lay crumpled beneath him.

“Gavin, are you okay?”

Nothing.

“Gavin?”

Silence.

“Gav!”

“Mmph.” It slipped from his lips involuntarily, his eyes forced shut and his head shaking.

“Oh thank god. What the fuck were you thinking, Gav?” Geoff’s voice demanded, though with more pain than anything else. “You could’ve died! Is that what you want, to die?”

His body shook beneath Geoff, though any answer by body language unintelligible.

“Maybe…” The smaller man’s voice spoke, shrill and nearly silent, though falling on deaf ears as the noisily being of the bus drove up.

“Let’s get you going, then. Goddamn, I’ll need to be sure to watch you from now on. What kind of stunt was that, Gavin? Why.” He asks painfully as he stands up, using his strength to pull the lanky brit up as well. Once to his feet, Gavin limped towards the awfully colored green bus, getting on as he slides his bus pass in the sensor. Geoff waves to no avail through the bubbling tint of the bus window as it spouts along the desolate road.

Gavin watched as Neon became a distant memory beyond the glass, fading away behind them as the bus drove along the black road quickly. He wrung his hands together, each hand kneading at the other, the corners of his turning up in small jolts of pain as he occasionally hit a bruise.

“They’re healing,” he constantly reminded himself, “Soon it’ll be like they never happened at all.”

“It’ll never happen again, I promise…” The words played in his mind, burned into his left hemisphere permanently. He forced his eyes shut as the voice stung him, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. “No, it’s a lie…”

“It’ll never happen again, I promise…”

“...Maybe it won’t ever happen again.”

“It’ll never happen again…”

“Maybe he’ll realize he loves me.”

“...I promise…”


	2. Snapping Skulls, Gaping Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not QUITE as morbid as the chapter title sounds. But there are trigger warnings. Click the END NOTES for those, but ONLY IF YOU THINK YOU NEED TO. MAJOR SPOILERS!
> 
> I actually got a request to continue this, I was shocked.
> 
> I don't typically like writing "bad" characters but this was a little fun, I hate to admit.

The ride on the morning ferry was peaceful, or as peaceful as a gigantic boat with a ton of cars and irritable commuters can be at the crack of dawn. 6 AM was never a fun time to travel, due to the fact that the sun barely peaked the horizon, making the entire Seattle area seem even more sleepy than usual. Sure, there was the movie with the words “Sleepless in Seattle” on them, but the area itself, though always seeming to have people around, always seemed kind of dull and low key. Though, beauty may be in the eye of the beholder.

The day started off very familiar, extremely repetitive to what he was constantly used to. Wake up at some ungodly hour of the morning, make coffee, forget it at home, barely make the 5:45 bus in a flurry of unsteady legs and squealed britishisms. Then, the wait with the other irritable commuters for the bus to drive up onto the ferry, waiting for what feels like years for the others to board the boat, cars, trucks, and then even simply the people who just walk on like the horde, then finally relaxing a slight bit as the boat finally departs from the shore.

Today, though, unlike all the other repetitive consistent days, Gavin gathered his computer bag and his oversized hoodie in his lanky arms and nodded once to the driver of the bus as he walked through the now open doors of the city bus and headed up the stairs of the ferry. From the bottom level of the boat, the walk was always somewhat tiring, two flights of stairs in order to reach the top deck, all the while fighting the strong winds blowing at his back from the moving barge. Though, once inside the top deck, everything got quiet once again as the doors shut behind him.

He looked around, then set his sights on a large empty booth over in the far back corner. He strode sleepily over there, one foot in front of the other, and set his stuff down on the table before sliding into the large booth. Since the booth was so uncommonly large, he allowed himself to lay down, stretching out his body along the length of the bench. Even fully straightened, the booth still trumped his size, and he was in no means a small man. From his place laid down on the squishy red booth, he reached a hand up to slap the table gently, sliding his palm around the surface until he felt his jacket. He pulled it down quickly in one fluid motion, stuffing it behind his head before turning on his side and closing his eyes. The ride to downtown was always at the very least 45 minutes, and he knew he couldn’t nap for much longer than a half an hour anyway.

As he laid there, he listened to the sounds of the people around him on the upper deck with him. A lot of the other people, fellow travelers going to downtown for work just like he was, found themselves doing exactly like he was currently, trying to get at least a little refreshed before being stuck in a cubicle and going to the nine to five grind, only to travel home and do the same thing all over again. Even though he saved himself from the zombie-like life that was large corporate workers who slaved over a desk in a cubicle all day, he still found himself just as overworked and strained as them.

He then turned over, groaning as he did, facing the other way on the booth entirely. He wrapped his arm around himself, tucking his hand under him ribs. He yelped and sat up quickly, grimacing as he hissed with the inhale of air through his clenched teeth. He glanced around, a careful gentle hand rubbing circles on the bruised part of his ribs. Luckily, everyone else was too involved with their own thoughts to have noticed his squeal of pain. He shook his head slowly and looked down at his phone, using one free hand to touch the button in order to light up the screen. The time flashed before his eyes briefly, before notifying him of a text from Michael. He hesitated, not looking down at it for a few seconds, before ultimately deciding that it didn’t matter at the moment before pressing the power button and standing up from the booth, stretching as big as he could without straining himself too much. He winced slightly as the bruise began to burn, instantly putting his arms down and rubbing his side once again. He scooped up his computer bag and slung it over his shoulder quickly, being careful about where the strap collided with his shoulder and his neck at the same time.

He shuffled his feet slowly across the deck floor, feeling the familiar sensation of the boat rocking beneath the feet of his converse as he slowly dragged his feet around. He looks at the food bar in the center of the deck quickly, seeing all the tired people trying to eat a meal and work at the same time. That had to be the number one thing he licked the most about his work now, that he didn’t slave over a desk too often, as the only times he seemed to have to do that were when logging the sales for the week and running the two paychecks he had to run for his employees. Stock was always easy to order, as the easiest way to make sure that he didn’t do it wrong was to make sure that they always knew that he wanted to repeat his previous order, and if he needed anything unusual, they always asked just to make sure. He never needed a repeat of the day that he ordered a surplus of white frosting by accident that had melted in the box and went all over the shop when he dropped it on the ground. It had gotten in some...questionable areas, which meant that he hadn’t gotten away without multiple pictures of him with frosting all over himself, which had been posted to many social medias by one of his employees. To this very day he still hasn’t heard the end of it.

He chuckles to himself as he looks away from the food bar, his stomach growling in protest, but Gavin ignoring it in favor of shooting it down and disregarding it completely. Instead, he wandered over to one of the vending machines and stuck in two dollars, tapped the number and letter combo for a bottle of water in swiftly, with a surprising lack of mistakes, and received a chilled water bottle and 75 cents in return. He unzipped the front pocket of his computer bag and shoved the change into it before zipping it back up and wandering towards the front of the boat. The few people that were actually awake and attentive cast him weird looks as he opened the door, struggling slightly as the powerful wind made it nearly impossible to open it with his rather weak arms.

Once through, the wind hit him in the face at full force, sending his hair all over his head, making it look even more messy than it usually did. He walked up to the railing at the very front of the vessel and leaned on it, using both of his arms to support himself as he stared out onto the water. The sun barely reflected off of the water, an orange glow on the surface of the waves, vanishing inch by inch as the front of the boat overtook them. He stared off into the distance, not seeing much but water at the moment, as they were still approximately at least a half hour before docking in the Seattle port.

The wind was loud in his ears, making it almost impossible to immerse into his own thoughts, but somehow he found himself lost in his own thoughts. He knew that most times when he did this, nothing good really ever came out of it, but sometimes out of some strange void came a singular stroke of genius.

His thoughts wandered aimlessly, skipping back and forth between work and other things, such as the movie that he’d watched the night before, work, as well as the things he talked about around the bar the night before.

_Last night._

It all came flooding back in a flurry of thoughts, all the things that had happened. The fact that he hadn’t even remembered how he’d gotten to Neon in the first place, so clearly he had already been drunk before he’d even left his condo, and then he’d drank even more once he’d sat down at the bar. The fact that he’d wallowed in his own self pity again, not telling anyone else of anything that was going with him once again, bottling it up inside instead of gathering up the courage to actually say something about it...to ask for help or something.

Not to mention when he’d stared down the highway, seeing the bus headlights coming straight at him in his swimming vision, his brain going blank with any thought, other than one thing. All night last night he’d been trying to decipher what it was, that strange feeling he’d gotten when his mind had drawn a complete blank. How when Geoff had asked him if he was trying to end it all…

“Christ...everything is just so bloody fucked now isn’t it?” He mutters to himself, still looking out over the water.

He’d known that he couldn’t tell Geoff anyway. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone. The last time he’d almost done it, when the words had nearly slipped his lips, he’d regretted it that night immediately, facing the reason why it was never okay to open up, for him to never face his problems and just end them.

 _“Do you have any idea what you almost did?!”_ the voice seemed to echo endlessly off of the walls of his skull, never ending, like a burn that just wouldn’t _STOP_.

_“N-no, I-I mean, yes, I know what I almost just did b-but…”_

_“But_ what?!” _He had screamed, his face turning a dark shade of red quickly._

_“B-but I...I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, it won’t ever happen again, I-I promise it wont! I swear! What can I swear on, I-I’ll do it! I swear-”_

_“Why do you use that tone with me?!” He demanded loudly, glaring down the shaking man below him. “You know I hate that! You know what it does to me!”_

_“Y-yes, I-I do, but I’m not meaning it like that-”_

_“Like fuck you aren’t! You would probably give anything to make me feel like shit, wouldn’t you?” He screeched, staring the man down once again. “_ Wouldn’t you, Gavin!? _” He demanded with even more force than usual._

_“No! Of course not! I never would-”_

_“Don’t you fucking dare lie to me!”_

_A whimper of desperation came from his lips against his own will, and his body shook with sheer terror as his thoughts thought to what might happen…_

_“I-I’m not! I swear!”_

_“Bullshit!”_

_Tears streamed down his face against his will, his body racking with unspoken sobs. There was a swift kick to the ribs, followed by another. One, two._

_“Agh!” The sound escaped his lips with the second._

_“I don’t want to hear it!”_

_“I-I’m s-sorr-”_

_A quick second passed before his back was flush against the tile floor, a heavy weight on his chest with the foot that forced him down onto the floor._

_“Can you not hear?! Are you that stupid now?!”_

_“N-No..!”_

_“_ I SAID STOP!” _He clamored, before stepping down harshly and adding an abrupt kick to his head. Gavin’s vision swam, and he shook his head back and forth as a silent plea for it to all just stop. He felt his consciousness begin to fade away slowly, his eyelids drifting closed beyond his control. The very last thing that he registered was a soft touch to his cheek and a muttered line._

_“I’m sorry, It’ll never happen again..._

_I promise”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers:
> 
> -Mentions of abuse  
> -Slightly graphic violence  
> -Hints of suicide
> 
> (This story is a little dark, i'm not fucked up I swear it's for the prompt)


	3. Purple and Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, so I know there was a planned update for this a few days ago, but I ended up injuring myself pretty badly. Though, after confirmation that nothing is broken or fractured, I'm back at it.  
> I had a TON of fun writing this chapter, I love when all the writing starts to develop.
> 
> CLICK END NOTES FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS! (THE WORK IS NOW MARKED MATURE)

The city of Seattle always seemed to be busy- people walking, people driving, people working, or people just enjoying the leisure of the city in general. Normally, most people just drove, but there were a few people just like Gavin who couldn’t drive who just walked everywhere or took advantage of monthly passes for public transport. The city wasn’t too much of a pain to drive in normally, even though there were a lot of people in the city regardless of what time it is, and it’s easily manageable, but Gavin had just never had any interest in learning how to drive. When you work in the dead center of the city, it wasn’t that hard to find a bus that dropped off near there.

Unsurprisingly, it was raining was the sun rose over the horizon. He looked out the dreary bus window, watching as the raindrops rolled down the cool glass, absorbing more droplets and taking them down with them. Looking on further, Gavin saw that the streets were gathering rather large puddles, the pedestrians walking keeping a very large distance from the curb as to not get soaked if a car drove by and happened to hit it by accident. Though, it could also happen on purpose, because some people are just complete assholes for no reason. All the people were covered in raincoats and boots, the lot of them being very used to the instant dreariness and rain that came with living in Washington. Even the people that were on the bus were adorned with rain-resistant clothing, as they most likely had a trek ahead of them in order to get to their final destination. Gavin himself had a trek to make, but, luckily, it wasn’t a very long one. Since the city had started adding more bus stops around, they had put one right near his shop, so it was less than two minutes for him to be in the doors and flipping around the open sign.

Flipping on his phone to see the time, he notes to himself that he would have nearly an hour before initial opening of the shop to prep with his staff, which included one person, so it really wasn’t all that hard to manage at all. During the day, they never got very busy, just spending the lot of their time ordering stock or making fresh goods in order to be sold. Normally, each day they’d get close to running completely out of fresh baked goods, splitting up the remaining stock between themselves and taking them home with them.

Gavin jolted forward in his seat as the breaks of the bus were applied semi-roughly, sending his almost slamming into the seat in front of him. Out of reflex, he propped himself up from the seat in front of him with his hands, but after putting so much pressure on his rather heavily bruised wrists he jerked back in pain, sucking in a hiss of air through his mouth in order to prevent himself from releasing a loud outcry. Taking a quick glance out the water covered window, he notices that somehow they had reached his stop in what seemed to be record time, but it was probably the same amount if time that it had always been from the very beginning since he had started taking this route. He stands up quickly, grimacing as he accidentally bends over a little too far while reaching for his computer bag. His core screamed in agony, the muscles protesting very loudly, nearly making Gavin double over right in the middle of the aisle. After a few moments, he was able to let himself stand upright, his muscles still screaming in pain, but a manageable amount of pain. He slowly trudged towards the front of the bus, smiling at the driver as he passed by.

“Thanks for the ride again, Chris.” Gavin says, nodding his head at Chris, who’d been driving the same bus on the same bus for however long Gavin had been on this route.

“No problem, Gavin. See ya tonight.” Chris says, smiling slightly as he tilts his head in a gesture of parting. Gavin doesn’t bother to wave as he steps off of the bus, not looking back as he begins his trek towards the shop. It’s only about a block and a half way from the bus stop, but by the time he hears the jingle of the bell as the door opens he’s soaking wet. The door usually wasn’t unlocked, but he payed no mind to it as he just pushed the glass door closed and locked it with one swift turn of the wrist. He listened to the squishing of his shoes against the tiled floor as he set off towards the back room, hearing the soft sounds of music and humming coming from the kitchen area.

As he rounds the corner to walk into the kitchen, he smiles as he makes eye contact with Griffon instantly, her smiling briefly before looking back down at what she was working on prior to his soppy entrance.

“Hey there, Griffon. I had no idea you were here this early, you usually get here after me.” Gavin says, going over to the coat hanger and table for their things to shed off his coat and place his rather dry computer bag down.

“Yeah, I came in a little earlier this morning, I woke up way early this morning for some reason. Luckily Geoff wasn’t too hard to wake up when you stick fresh coffee under his sleepy nose, so he drove me down here and got on the ferry that departs a half hour before the one that I usually take any other day.” She clarifies, only looking up for a second before going back to what she was doing, still humming to the soft music.

“I didn’t even think it was possible to make him wake up early ever.” He comments, smiling as he hears the small laugh that escapes Griffon’s lips.

“Believe me, after all these years, I’m still surprised whenever it happens. That’s one thing I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get used to.”

Walking over to a filing cabinet, he opens it quickly before pulling out a box with a scribbled doodle of the face of a creeper from minecraft on it. He places it on the table while using his foot to close the ajar drawer loudly, opening the box swiftly. Reaching inside he grabs the spare pair of pants and shoes, as well as one of the pairs of socks. He had come in soaking wet on more than one occasion, so Griffon had made him plan ahead after customers had started giving him strange looks and glances.

He stalked off to the supply room to get changed, still hearing Griffons hums as he walked. As he got into the room, he poked his head out briefly in order to check if he was alone. Sure, Griffon was his only employee, but he didn’t want anyone seeing anything he has to hide.

Quickly dropping his pants, he pulled on his spare dark blue skinny jeans, wincing as he did so, trying to keep himself from crying out. Why he had left himself skinny jeans he had no idea, but all he knew now was that his past self was really stupid for doing that. Bending down to grab the soaked pair of jeans, he felt the tight fabric rub against nearly every single bruise that littered his legs, sending many jolts of pain up and down simultaneously. Within seconds, Gavin yelled out in agony, landing on the cool storage room floor, writhing in pain as tears welled up in his eyes. He heard the instant clatter of cookware from the room over, followed by Griffon’s frantic footsteps.

_No, no, no..._

“Gavin?” Her voice rang down the short hallway, “Gavin, are you alright, what was that?”

_She can’t find out…_

Panicking, Gavin frantically curled up into a ball in order to keep her from seeing his feet, and to possibly deter her from asking any questions. Though, in the back of his mind, he knew that there was no way out of this.

As Griffon sprinted around the corner, Gavin locked eyes with her, the tears finally spilling over the edge of his eyes. She dropped to her knees immediately, looking gavin over frantically first before scanning her eyes around the room looking for what might’ve caused the incident. Below her gentle reassuring grasp Gavin writhed, wishing for nothing more than to escape from this whole thing and disappear.

“Gav?” She spoke, her voice quiet as he slowly turned his head in order for his eyes to meet hers. Her eyes were soft, the blue swimming with concern and nothing but concern.

He gave her no response, his eyes never breaking away from hers. She continued to stare into his eyes, one of her hands resting on his upper thigh. She attempted to rub small, comforting circles with her hands, but yanked away quickly as Gavin began to cringe once more, his eyes flaring with agony.

“Gavin?”

He blinked once, still glancing into her eyes while simultaneously trying to desperately escape from beneath her gaze.

She hesitated, then spoke pained words from her voice.

“This didn’t just happen in here, did it?”

Gavin’s heart began to race even faster, his mind screaming at him to _lie, lie, lie,_ but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He shook his head, revealing the partial truth to her in a matter of milliseconds.

Tearing her eyes away from his she leaned back and scanned his vulnerable form, her gaze traveling from his neck to his torso, then from his pelvis to his feet. Once her gaze reached his ankles and feet her mouth fell agape, whispered words escaping through her long, silent breaths. Her eyes roamed the purple and blue splotches slowly, tracing the outsides of each.

“How?” She choked out in a whisper, finally able to form some form of speech.

“I…” Gavin sputtered, eyes darting to the floor, “I...can’t tell you.”

He expected her to ask once more, telling him that he had no right to keep anything to himself and that he needn't have any secrets.

Though, to his surprise, she nodded and put her hand atop of his, her eyes soft.

“You should go home.” She stammers out eventually, squeezing his hand lightly. He looks at her with questioning eyes, looking for assurance that he wasn’t hallucinating.

“A-are you sure?” He questions, after she expands no more on her previous statement.

“Yes, I’m sure. I believe Geoff is available if you wanted to be picked up, you’d just have to wait for him to get down here.”

Gavin waited once more, seconds elapsing in his stunned silence.

“Uhmm, yeah,” He stutters, unsure of himself and his own words, “If it’s not too big of an inconvenience for him, sure.”

She nods her head slowly, clearing her throat and running a hand across her cheeks before standing up to go and find her phone. After she had left the storage room, he glanced around himself at his surroundings, deciding to put his shoes on while he was sat on the ground instead of trying while stood up, which would most likely result in a repeat of before.

He reaches over to his right, attempting to grasp the socks in his hand, finally succeeding after many pitiful previous attempts. After a few slowly elapsed minutes, he managed to get the dry shoes on and himself sat up. Using the stock shelf next to him, he used what small arm strength he has remaining to pull himself into a standing position, his legs burning and throbbing. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply, in and out, attempting to soothe his fired nerves.

Eventually, Gavin managed to stumble out of the storage room and into the kitchen, looking around for Griffon. He raised one eyebrow in confusion as he couldn’t spot her in the kitchen, deciding to set off walking towards the front of the store. As he drew closer, he heard her soft voice, and then he knew that she was most likely talking on her phone in the front of the store.

“Okay. Yeah, okay, that’s fine. Thanks, Geoff. Okay, bye.”

As he rounds the corner of the wall to the front of the store, Gavin’s eyes meet Griffon leaning on the counter, head in her hands.

“Everything okay, Griffon?” Gavin chokes out, his voice wavering slightly.

She spins her head quickly to look at him, smiling as soon as she does.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m more worried about you.”

Gavin shrugs, waving off her concern with a loose hand.

“I’ll be fine, just can’t wear skinny fashion.” He says sarcastically, which makes Griffon frown.

“Gav-”

She’s interrupted by a loud rasping at the front door of the store, disregarding her speech to slide over the counter and open the door.

“Your hours say that you should be open.” A voice says, somewhat raspy. Gavin’s heart speeds up and his eyes shoot towards the door, eyes wide mimicking a deer in the headlights.

“M-Michael?” Gavin forces out, his voice uneasy.

“Oh, there you are Gavin.” He smiles briefly, before it returns to a scowl. “You didn’t answer my calls.”

“Yeah, sorry...I was...taking inventory.” Gavin mumbles uncertainly.

“Hmm.” Michael hums, before turning to Griffon. “Anything fresh today?”

“No, not really, we haven’t done much yet. Gavin’s going home for the day anyways.”

Michael raises his eyebrows and swivels his head in order to lock eyes with Gavin behind the counter.

“Oh really?” Michael asks, not breaking eye contact with Gavin. Beneath Michael’s gaze, Gavin began to panic, anxiety rising in his chest in overwhelming amounts.

“Yeah, he’s not doing too well.”

_Don’t tell him why, don’t tell him why…_

“Aw, thats just too bad.”

“Yeah…” Griffon’s voice fades out as she looks out the window, losing her thoughts in the pouring rain.

Clearing his throat, Michael begins to speak, still not breaking eye contact with Gavin.

“Hey, Gav, can I talk to you in the back for a second.”

“Errm…”

Michael’s gaze intensified, though silently in the room screamed in Gavin’s brain.

“S-sure Michael.” He stammers, turning slowly to walk towards the back room. Within seconds Michael is there next to him, swiftly taking Gavin’s wrist in his, squeezing unnaturally hard.

“Make sound and you’ll regret it.” Michael growls out quietly, but loud enough for Gavin to hear.

“O-okay, Michael.”

“Why’re you going home?”

“I don’t f-feel well.”

“Are you lying to me?” Michael forces out sternly, glaring a metaphorical hole into the brits head.

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“No Michael.”

“Better. Well, if you’re going home, you’re riding with me.”

“But, Geoff-” Gavin’s voice is cut off abruptly as Michael tightens his fingers around his wrist, fingernails digging in deep enough to draw blood.

“Don’t disobey me. You’re going home with me, and you’re going to tell Griffon that as you walk out. Nothing else.”

Unable to bring himself to speak, Gavin nods his head, new tears forming behind his eyelids.

“Hey,” Michael begins, softer now, “I don’t hate you, Gavin.”

Slightly raising one eyebrow in question, Gavin looks at Michael as he lifts the hand that isn’t grasping painfully at his wrist to stroke Gavin’s face.

“I love you, Gavin.”

Gavin’s heart fell in his chest, plummeting at the speed of light into his stomach. Michael has never said that to him before, he had always refused. Gavin had let the three words slip out once before, but Michael had not approved, striking him across the cheek instead of returning the words.

“I-I...love you, t-too.” Gavin stammers out, eyes meeting Michael’s hard brown ones.

“Yeah, I know you do.” Michael says, releasing Gavin’s wrist before looking at his fingers, blood under his nails, shining in the fluorescent light.

“Hmm, first time that’s ever happened….Interesting.” Michael mutters, eyes focused on his fingernails for a few moments before he wipes it on his pants and begins to speak once more.

“Alright, let’s go home, shall we?” He asks, turning on his heel quickly, starting down the hall for the front door. Gavin reluctantly follows, his mind swamped in many differing emotions, leaving him numb and shocked.

“Gavin’s actually going to come home with me, so could you let Geoff know that Gavin won’t need him to take Gavin home?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem.” Griffon says brightly, a smile spreading on her face.

“Alright, let’s get a move on, Gavvers.” Michael says, putting Gavin in front of himself as they walk out the door. Gavin waves weakly at Griffon before being subtly prodded through the doorway by his boyfriend. As they stepped towards the blue car parallel parked on the street, Michael opened the door for his boyfriend, a seemingly loving gesture up until Michael forcefully shoved Gavin into the car by his head, Michael slamming the door behind him. Gavin secretly hoped that Griffon could see what was happening, but he knew that she couldn’t, as Michael took extra special care in tinting his windows.

With the aggressive slam of the driver door, Gavin’s heart sped up in speed, though somewhat calmed as Michael turned the car on, the stereo blasting through the speakers. After a few moments, Michael turned his head to Gavin, a soft smile on his face. Though, as Gavin went to return it, a hard hand came up and slammed into his temple, sending Gavin’s head slamming into the dashboard and his consciousness wavering.

“You’re a pitiful idiot, Gavin. Fucking pitiful.” Michael speaks out through clenched teeth, voice pure venom.

The last thing he heard was the maniacal chuckle from Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for this chapter:
> 
> -Mentions of abuse  
> -Emotional abuse  
> -Physical abuse  
> -Blood mention  
> -Anxiety/Panic attacks

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> -Mentions of Abuse  
> -Heavy Drinking  
> -Suicide Mention


End file.
